


avoiding the winter sky

by angrylizardjacket (ephemeralstar)



Series: And All The Queen's Men 'verse [7]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018)
Genre: Daydreaming, Gen, Trip planning, that riz ahmed picture [im sad]
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 01:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16863727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralstar/pseuds/angrylizardjacket
Summary: Giselle, Freddie, & Jim spend time planning for a vacation that isn’t coming.





	avoiding the winter sky

**Author's Note:**

> September, 1991.

* * *

“Mornin’ ‘Zelle.” Jim opens the door for her, giving her a smile and a hug in greeting, she’s got a stack of paperwork in one hand and tupperware contained full of cookies in the other, and she offered him one.

“Rog and Lilith made them yesterday, they’re good, though the kitchen may never recover.” The cookies are chocolate chip, and he takes one with a quiet laugh and thanks, leading her through the house to where she could hear the sizzle of something cooking, and Freddie humming cheerfully. “He sounds bright.”

“Yeah, he’s very cheery today; always looks forward to seeing you.” There’s a smile in Jim’s words that Gizelle can hear without even seeing his face, and when they enter the kitchen, Freddie’s positively beaming at them.

“I think we should go on vacation.” He says, in lieu of a greeting, sitting at the kitchen table chopping onions, his eyes watering just a little. Giselle laughs lightly, swanning over to him to press a kiss to his cheek and put her papers on the table.

“And what makes you say that?” She asks, and he resumes his work as she put her folder down on the table. It’s tradition, they have lunch together on Thursdays, Giselle brings some of her cases with her to look over, or sometimes they watch a movie or play board games, but usually they just end up talking, about everything and nothing, distracting themselves from how tired Freddie is, and the marks that keep appearing on his skin.

“I want to go somewhere warm, everything’s so dreary around here.” And he wasn’t wrong; even though it was only the start of Autumn, the sky was grey more often than it was blue nowadays. “I want an adventure, I miss our adventures.” Once he was finished with the onions, he passed them off to Jim, who was quietly cooking over by the stove, smiling to himself.

“We could go on a pub crawl; see all the bands London has to offer in one night like we used to.” Giselle offers, something in her chest tightening as Freddie’s expression brightens.

“Oh yes, I love a good chance to dress up in disguise.” His eyes shine with amusement at the idea, reminiscing fondly about their old haunt at the edge of town where they used to head when they wanted to remember their roots.

“I could wear a wig and put on a fake nose!” Giselle grinned, getting up and moving around the kitchen with practiced ease, pouring all three of them a glass of orange juice.

“So could I!” Freddie enthused, his smile only brightening as Jim chuckled.

“I think you should both invest in a bright pink bob, very subtle.” He added, thanking Giselle again as she pulled out three plates, smiling at his husband’s obvious delight at the suggestion.

“Oh, we should tour together again! A reunion tour, a new and beautifully bright wig  _every night_!” And Freddie leaned back in his chair, watching with an endearing smile as two of his favourite people finished plating up lunch. The serenity only lasted a minute before he was overcome with a violent coughing fit, and Giselle was by his side as Jim fetched him a glass of water. “Perhaps a tour isn’t for me right now.” He mused, a small, self-deprecating smile on his face as he accepted the drink and hummed with contentment when Jim kissed the top of his head, before heading back to the kitchen.

“What if  _I_  go on tour, and you come along as my main backup dancer who sings when he’s not coughing his lungs up?” Giselle offered, and there was something grateful in Freddie’s gaze that she tried not to dwell on.

“And if I do start coughing my lungs up on stage?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, Giselle waves him off.

“It’s interpretive dance; kids these days love that sort of stuff.” She half laughed, and Freddie chuckled.

“Touring’s such hard work though, darling, I don’t want to be dragging dear Jim halfway across America.” He mused, gaze sliding to fix the man in question with a fond smile, which, when he looked up from pushing eggs onto the final plate, Jim returned in kind.

“You think you’ll be dragging me along? Dear, I’ll be right there beside you, whether you like it or not.” He informed them, matter-of-factly, bringing two plates over to the table, before getting the third, all three plates stacked with neatly arranged eggs, bacon, sausages, and cooked onions, along with a slice of toast.

“Well lucky for you, I  _love_  it.” Freddie grinned at him, tucking into brunch with Giselle and Jim on either side of him doing the same. “But it is work, touring, I don’t think I have it in me, can’t we just go somewhere nice and warm? I’d love to lie on the beach somewhere.” He mused, and Giselle grinned.

“And which beach would you prefer?” She asked, as if she were already making plans, taking a large bite of her egg on toast.

“Oh, you two pick, I could never decide, I’ve seen too many beautiful beaches to have a favourite.” Freddie grinned, and they sank into silence, all contemplative.

“I haven’t seen nearly as many beaches as you two have.” Jim said, quietly, though he didn’t seem unhappy about it, just thoughtful. Without hesitation, he reaches out, taking Jim’s hand across the table.

“Then we don’t have to pick, we’ll see them all.” Freddie announced firmly, giving Jim’s hand a squeeze.

“All of them?” Giselle asks, eyebrows raised, and Freddie turns back to her with a bright and toothy smile.

“All of best, all over the world; we’ll start with Australia, right after Christmas I’ll fly us there, a holiday present! We can bask in the sun while it’s snowing here in dreary England, how does that sound?” He’s lost in his own world, eyes glazed over as he sits on the edge of his seat, food all but forgotten in front of him; he can see the scene before him, can practically feel the sun on his skin.

“Sounds lovely, Freds.” Giselle said, quiet and kind. “I think we could all use a holiday from this city.” She agreed. “We could visit some friends,  _oh_ ,” eyes lighting up, Giselle reached out to take Freddie’s other hand, “I know it’s not a beach, but Jim  _has_  to see Venice, we could visit in the middle months where no-where’s really right for beaches, we could visit Elton’s little place up there.”

“That does sound pretty nice.” Jim agreed. “I mean, a world tour without the actual tour bit? I think I could handle that; what do you think, Freddie?” And finally, hearing Jim’s voice, Freddie feels his fantasy slipping away, and all he can do is smile.

“Sounds perfectly wonderful, exactly what we need.” And there’s almost a dreamlike quality to his voice, which vanishes once he spots his food going cold before him. “We should eat up, I wouldn’t want to let your cooking go to waste.” And he smiles at Jim, taking back his hands from his companions to keep eating, but Giselle just smiles softly at him.

“I’d follow you to the ends of the Earth if you asked me to.” She tells him, surprisingly serious, and when Freddie looks at her, there’s something a little sad in his eyes as he gives her a fond smile.

“I know, Gizelle.” 

Neither one can bring themselves to say it, but they never get past the planning stages. Their time together over the following months is spent poring over travel magazines, Giselle fills a binder with tourist traps they’re determined to see, and picturesque sunset shots they’re determined to recapture, and she pretends it doesn’t hurt her heart when Freddie’s expression fall and he has to outright skip all the pages with actual booking information.

They plan and they fantasize about cocktails at sunset, and when Freddie’s gone, Giselle puts the folder in the back of her closet, and can’t bring herself to open it again.


End file.
